


A Human's Guide to Dating Supernatural Creatures

by jaicubed



Category: Supernatural, Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: M/M, Superwolf, deanbenny - Freeform, librarian!sam, mechanic!Dean, mechanic!benny, samek, unhelpful!cas
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-02-08
Updated: 2014-02-08
Packaged: 2018-01-11 14:31:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,385
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1174200
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jaicubed/pseuds/jaicubed
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What are two humans to do after closing the gates of Hell, putting the dick angels back in the sky, and rescuing Dean's one true love from Purgatory? The Winchesters have decided to take a break from hunting, but not from the supernatural.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Preface

“Dean, I’m 32 years old. You can’t forbid me to do anything.”

Sam looked at his brother with exasperation while Benny looked on with amusement. Cas listened to the goings-on with rapt attention- sort of like a scientist watching bacteria grow in a petri dish. Really obnoxious bacteria.

The four men were at the bunker’s dining room table. Dinner had long since been finished, but the subsequent argument had kept the men in their seats.

“I can do whatever the hell I want- and I am forbidding you to go out with that guy,” Dean declared, slamming his beer bottle on the table.

“Why?”

Dean looked at Sam like he had three heads. “Because he’s a fucking werewolf, Sam!”

“You’re dating a vampire, Dean.”

“We’re not dating!” Dean protested.

“Then what do you call it when you go out to bars, sleep in the same bed, have sex, and cuddle on the couch with someone?” Sam asked dryly.

“I don’t fucking cuddle,” Dean spat.

“Oh, so you didn’t fall asleep on Benny’s chest last night watching Indiana Jones?”

“What does this even have to do with your situation anyway?” Dean deflected. Sam quirked an eyebrow at the red on Dean’s cheeks.

“You really don’t see how you dating a vampire is relevant to me going out with Derek?”

“No.”

“It’s because it is very hypocritical for you to forbid Sam to do something that you do yourself,” Cas commented, and Dean shot him a dirty look.

“Shut up Cas. Besides, Benny is a vampire, not a werewolf.”

“So?”

“So? So?” Dean sputtered. “It’s different!”

“They’re both supernatural creatures with fangs who go out at night,” Sam reasoned. “Both are capable of controlling their urges to kill and turn people.”

“We don’t know if this Hale guy is capable of that,” Dean argued. “We know Benny.”

“And I know Derek,” Sam countered. “He’s been in the library every day for the last three months. And, guess what? No brutal werewolf attacks since he’s moved here.”

“Look, Sam, wasn’t one horrific sexual experience with a werewolf enough?”

“This is different, Dean. Derek was born a werewolf, he knows the lay of the land a bit better.”

“It’s still dangerous,” Dean said, glaring at Sam. “Besides, when the hell did you start being interested in dudes, anyway?”

“Does it matter, Dean? I like Derek, and I wouldn’t mind trying things out with him- it might be fun.”

“Knitting is something you try for fun, Sam, not going on a date with a fucking werewolf.”

“I’ve always wanted to try knitting,” Cas mused.

“Shut up Cas!”

Dean looked at Sam with narrowed eyes. “It’s a bad idea.”

“Almost as bad an idea as tricking me into being an angel’s vessel?”

Dean huffed, but didn’t respond. He looked to Benny for help, but the vampire only shrugged.

“Sam’s a big boy. He can take care of himself,” Benny said.

“You’re supposed to be on my side,” Dean hissed. Benny smirked.

“If you actually got to know Derek, I think you’d like him. You both have the greaser, muscle car, five o clock shadow thing going on,” Sam said with a grin.

"Oh yeah? What does he drive?"

"A black Camaro."

"Well…at least he has good taste in cars," Dean mumbled, and Sam looked at his brother triumphantly.

Dean sighed and rubbed his eyes. “Fine. But I want to meet him first.”

"What are you, a 1950s sitcom father?"

"No, I’m a guy who’s tired of saving your ass every ten fucking seconds."

"Why don’t we all go out to Jasper’s tomorrow?" Benny suggested, trying to avoid any more arguments. "It’s pretty fun there on Fridays."

"Perfect," Sam decided, getting up from the table. "And Dean, you better be nice."

"Oh, I’ll be a fucking peach."


	2. Tip #1: Do Your Research

It all started four months ago.

Dean and Sam had been out of the hunting business for eight months at that point. Hell was closed up, Heaven was back to usual working order, and after one tearful confession and trip to Purgatory later, here they were- a vampire, an angel, and two ex-hunters living in a bona fide bunker in Lawrence, Kansas.

Sam hadn’t been surprised at Dean’s confession. The younger Winchester had always known that Dean was connected to Benny in a special way. He was happy for Dean, genuinely. Dean had found someone who was as devoted to him as Dean was to everyone else. This didn’t stop him from making “Twilight” jokes, however.

He had been more surprised when Cas had appeared at their doorstep, asking to stay for awhile. No one minded that Cas was still there months later.

After a couple of months of recuperating in the bunker, Sam thought he was going to kill Dean if the hunter so much as looked at him. So he got a job.

It didn’t pay much, but he didn’t much, and Lawrence’s library was in desperate need of some attention. When he wasn’t helping patrons, Sam went through the archives, organizing and arranging things in some semblance of order. When he came across a photo of a young Samuel Campbell in the newspaper, he knew he had made the right choice.

Dean and Benny had gotten jobs at two different auto shops in town, staunch competitors with a penchant for mild sabotage. Sam figured it worked for Dean- he got to get his hands in some cars and be an asshole on a daily basis. 

So things were going pretty well. Nothing supernatural had cropped up near them, not that they were looking. Okay, so they read the paper every day and surfed the Internet, but they were retired, alright?

It figured that something- make that someone- would just walk through the door.

Sam looked up when the door to the library opened.

He knew something was different about the man as soon as he saw him. Granted, Sam didn’t see much of anyone in the library other than the few old ladies who came by every day, but there was something else.

He looked to be about the same age as Sam himself, with dark hair and dark stubble, and light eyes that flicked to Sam. The man’s gaze was intense, and an alarm went off in Sam’s head.

“Can I help you?” Sam asked warily. He looked like a normal guy, but if there was anything Sam knew, it was that normal-looking guys could be fucking dangerous.

“Yeah, actually…I’m new to town. Was hoping I could get a library card,” the man said, his gaze as intense as ever. Sam knew he had seen something like it before, but he couldn’t put his finger on it.

“Sure,” Sam said. He pulled a form from the drawer of his desk and gave it to the man along with a pen.

“Thanks.” The man leaned against the desk, his brow furrowed in concentration. Sam took in the man’s dark jeans, dark shirt, and leather jacket in bemusement. There was still something nagging at Sam, so he adopted his best FBI nice guy voice and started an interrogation.

“So, you’re new to town?” Sam asked casually.

“Yep,” the man answered. 

“Where are you coming from?” Sam pressed.

“California,” the man replied. He didn’t offer anything else.

This was going to take forever.

“What brought you to Lawrence?”

The man looked up from the form with a quirked eyebrow. “Is everyone in Lawrence this chatty, or just you?”

Maybe the nagging feeling Sam had was his douche alert going at full speed. 

“Is everyone from California this crabby, or just you?” Sam asked pleasantly.

The man’s lips curved up slightly, but he didn’t answer. He finished filling out the form and handed it to Sam. Sam perused the form, taking longer than was strictly necessary to check for mistakes. The man lived not too far from the bunker, and Sam had been right- the man was only about a year younger than he was.

Sam grabbed a library card from the stack on his desk and wrote the man’s name on it. He handed it to the man with a flourish.

“Here you are, Mr. Hale,” Sam said, giving the man the card with his left hand and holding out his right hand to shake. “You are now a card-carrying member of the Lawrence Public Library. I’m Sam, if you need any help.”

The man looked at Sam’s hand for a moment, and Sam wondered if this guy was one of those people who didn’t understand social interactions. But Christ, even Cas knew how to shake hands.

“Derek,” the man said, finally taking hold of Sam’s hand. His grip was firm, ridiculously firm, in fact. Sam discreetly cracked his knuckles under his desk after the shake was over.

Derek shoved the library card in his pocket and walked towards the stacks. Sam watched him browse, the nagging feeling still there. What the hell was with this guy?

Derek returned to the desk ten minutes later with a dusty copy of “The History of Lawrence, Kansas.”

“Do you like history?” Sam asked as he checked out the book. “I’m working with some of the Lawrence archives right now, if you’re interested.”

“Maybe another day,” Derek replied in a gruff voice. He accepted the book from Sam and nodded to the hunter before leaving. Sam looked out the window and watched as Derek’s black car sped away.

****

Derek returned the next day, and every day after that. He was still as crabby as ever, and Sam still couldn’t place just what was up with him.

Derek checked out a new book every day, all about history. The history of Lawrence, the history of Kansas, the history of the steam-powered locomotive. On Friday, he checked out a particular thick volume entitled “Mathematical History: Calculus and Its Predecessors.”

“Not a fan of light reading, are you?” Sam quipped.

Derek grunted.

“Have a great weekend, Derek,” Sam said with a smile as he handed him his book. “We’re closed on Sundays, but we’re open for a few hours tomorrow if you finish that one. Looks like a real page turner.”

Sam grinned, but Derek only nodded seriously and left without a word.

The next morning Sam sat in the bunker’s kitchen, stirring a cup of coffee thoughtfully. Benny was leaning against the counter, sipping blood from a bag he had nabbed on one of his monthly runs. It showed just how fucked up Sam’s life was that he had grown accustomed to it.

Dean padded into the kitchen at around 8:30, his eyes crusty with sleep. He yawned and pulled his robe tighter around him and poured himself his own cup of coffee. He eyed Benny’s blood bag with distaste.

Benny grinned and pulled the hunter flush against him. “Give me a good morning kiss, sugar,” he drawled, his lips and teeth stained with red.

“Every fucking morning!” Dean groaned, struggling in vain to release himself from the vampire’s hold. “There’s a sword in the living room with your name on it, you disgusting bloodsucker.”

“Such a sweet talker,” Benny teased, but he released the hunter with a pat on the bottom.

Dean sat down at the table across from Sam. Sam was used to the daily morning struggle between his brother and the vampire so he had tuned it out. He was staring at a point behind Dean, his face deep in thought.

“It’s too fucking early for you to think that hard,” Dean grumbled in Sam’s general direction.  
Sam sighed. Dean was sort of right.

When Sam sighed a second time, Dean rolled his eyes. “What’s going through that gigantic head of yours?”

“It’s just this guy from the library…he’s come in every day this week, and…he just gives me a weird feeling, you know? But I don’t know why.”

“Aww, finally hit puberty Sammy? Make you feel a little funny in your underwear?”

“Not like that, ass,” Sam replied, glaring at his brother. “I mean, it feels like…something’s different about him. And I feel like I know what it is, but I can’t place it.”

“Something different, like…our different?” Dean asked, his eyebrows raised.

“Maybe…I don’t know,” Sam replied. “It is kind of weird though…he just moved here from California. What normal human being would leave California to go to bumfuck Kansas?”

“Maybe his dad went on a hunting trip and he hasn’t come back for a few days,” Dean suggested, and Sam kicked him under the table.

“I’m being serious Dean,” Sam said with a growl.

“I don’t fucking know, Sam. Why don’t you do your usual geek boy stalking routine on the Internet? Or what the kids call ‘research’ these days.”

“I did,” Sam replied in frustration. “I put in his name and there was nothing. No mention at all. It’s like he wiped the entire Internet clean of his existence.”

“Maybe he’s just a private guy,” Dean said, finally taking a sip of his coffee. “Hell, maybe he’s a hunter. Keeping a low profile.”

“He reads an entire book every day Dean. A hunter wouldn’t have time for that.”

Dean whistled. “Maybe he’s just reached supernatural levels of nerd.”

“What’s his name?” Benny interjected. “If he’s a vamp, I might’ve heard of him or his family.”

“Derek Hale.”

Benny scrunched his nose in thought. “Hale, huh? Doesn’t ring a bell. But that don’t mean much, I guess.”

“I’m not getting a vampire vibe from him,” Sam said, and Dean raised an eye brow.

“What the hell does that mean?”

“All the creatures we’ve hunted, Dean…they all had a way about them. And after spending all this time with Benny, I can tell.” Sam downed the rest of his coffee and stood up.

“I have to get to the library to open up. If he’s read about the entire history of math in one night, I’ll know for sure that he’s not completely human,” Sam said, shrugging on his jacket.

Sam waited in anticipation all day for Derek to walk through the door, but it wasn’t at the library that Sam finally saw him.

Sam was pushing a cart through the produce section at the grocery store when he spotted the dark-haired man by the apples.

Sam pretended to look through a selection of oranges while he observed Derek. After a minute of watching the man consider several apples, Sam began to wonder just how bored he was in life to stalk a man in the grocery store.

Sam took a deep breath and pushed his cart towards Derek. Maybe he would be more inclined to talk outside of the library. 

He was a couple of feet behind Derek when he opened his mouth to say hello. Before he could get any words out, Derek talked first.

“Hi, Sam,” Derek said. He continued to choose more apples while Sam stood contemplating his next move. The guy hadn’t even turned around- how the hell did he know it was him? 

“Hey, Derek,” Sam said carefully. “Didn’t see you at the library today.”

Derek finally turned around, his gaze as intense as ever. Was it cold in this produce section, or did Sam just get a hell of a chill?

“As much as I’m not a fan of light reading, even I could not get through the entire history of mathematics in one night,” Derek said dryly, but Sam could swear he actually saw a smile.

“Fair enough,” Sam replied. Any relief he felt at that was erased by Derek knowing him without turning around. But maybe Sam just had a really distinctive foot fall or something that he didn’t know about. 

“Were you busy today?” Derek asked. Sam was in shock- did this guy actually just initiate part of a conversation?

“Not a single soul through the door. I got a lot of work done on the archives, though, so that’s something,” Sam answered.

“Speaking of archives…” Derek began, and he looked down at the ground. He looked nervous all of a sudden.

“Yes?” Sam prompted.

Derek rubbed his neck. “Well, I have a lot of free time…if you couldn’t tell by my reading habits…” His eyes flicked quickly to Sam, who smiled encouragingly.

“So…if you need any help with the archives, I could maybe lend a hand.” Derek put his bag of apples in his cart and avoided eye contact with Sam.

What was with this guy? Sam thought for the hundredth time that week. He had been a complete jerk all week, and now he was offering to help Sam with the shitty records of an insignificant town in the middle of nowhere?

Maybe the guy was just crazy. But Sam could handle crazy, right?

“That would be great,” Sam said. “I usually go in for a few hours on Sunday when we’re closed. Why don’t you meet me at there, say at around noon?”

“Okay.” Derek finally looked at Sam, and there was a flash of something in his eyes that Sam recognized. It was right there outside his awareness.

Fuck, his hunter senses had really dulled.

“Well, I’m off to the deli. See you tomorrow,” Sam said. He spared Derek a last glance and saw a million emotions flicker across his face.

“See you.”

***

Benny and Dean had both agreed that the whole situation was very weird.

“Bring a weapon,” Dean had warned. 

So Sam waited outside the library the next day, the cool metal of his knife in his boot even more cold than usual in the February air. He wondered if Derek would even show, if he really was as crazy as they all thought.

At noon sharp the Camaro pulled into the library parking lot, rap music coming through the window.  
Derek got out of the car and stuck his sunglasses in his jacket pocket before shoving his hands in his pockets and walking to Sam.

“Wouldn’t have pegged you as a rap lover,” Sam said with a raised eyebrow.

“I like all music,” Derek replied. He scuffed his boot on the ground. “Rap is a great genre if you listen to the right artists.”

Sam almost snorted thinking of how Dean would have responded to that comment, but he kept a straight face.

“I’ll keep that in mind.” Sam unlocked the door to the library and turned on the lights. Derek followed him inside and stood awkwardly by the door as Sam took off his jacket.

“Take a load off. Stay awhile,” Sam joked, nodding to the coat rack. “I’m going to grab a few boxes from the back.”

When Sam returned with two dusty boxes Derek was sitting at one of the library’s tables. It was the first time that Sam had seen the man without his leather jacket on.

Derek was shorter than Sam, but a hell of a lot bulkier. Sam could tell the guy worked out from the cut of his muscle in the t-shirt he was wearing. 

I could still take him, Sam thought. 

Sam set the two boxes down on the table and removed the lids. “So, I hope you were planning on getting a little dirty today.”

Sam winced as he realized how awkward that had sounded, but Derek’s face remained blank as he continued. “I’ve found dead mice, mold, a wasp’s nest--just about anything you can think of in these boxes. Not to mention the dust.”

“I’m used to it,” was Derek’s only remark.

Okay then.

“So, you’ll find that there’s no order to the contents of these boxes. Marriage records are mixed in with old newspaper articles, minutes from the library’s board meeting in 1963 are stacked on top of a deed for a cow from 1890,” Sam explained, and Derek actually looked amused.

“So, at this point I’m just trying to put things into piles, then sort by date- most recent on top.” 

“Should I make a separate pile for cow deeds?” Derek asked with a small smile, and Sam chuckled. 

“It’s Kansas- you’ll have to.”

The men worked in silence for awhile, flipping through papers and making piles. Every once in awhile Sam could feel Derek’s eyes on him, but when he looked up, Derek’s eyes were trained on a document. 

Sam never learned anything on a hunt from silence, so he cleared his throat.

“So, you never answered me that day- why Lawrence?” Sam asked. “Not really a popular destination.”

Derek didn’t respond for several moments, and Sam thought he wasn’t going to at all until Derek finally spoke up.

“I’ve lived in New York and California,” Derek said quietly. “They didn’t really suit. So I thought I’d giving the Mid-West a try. Closed my eyes, put my finger on a map, and here I am in Lawrence.”

“Can’t imagine California not suiting anyone,” Sam commented, trying to press for more info. 

“Have you ever been?” Derek asked.

“I went to Stanford,” Sam replied. “Didn’t graduate, but I was in Palo Alto for about three and a half years. I loved it.”

Derek sorted a few more documents before replying. “I don’t have happy memories of California like you do, I guess.”

“I don’t really have any happy memories anywhere,” Sam said, and Derek looked at him then. Sam saw clear as day that Derek understood and was in the same boat.

Things got less serious after that. There were still silences, but they were companionable, not awkward. And Derek seemed to be loosening up. He told Sam a little about himself- stuff Sam already knew (Derek loved to read, Derek loved history), stuff Sam had guessed (Derek liked working out and going for runs, Derek had family money and didn’t have to work), and stuff that he never would have guessed (Derek hadn’t gone to college.)

Sam told Derek about himself, too. Until he had actually said his interests out loud, Sam didn’t realize how much he and Derek had in common. 

Sam told Derek about Dean, Benny, and Cas. Sam had promised Dean that he wouldn’t tell a soul about Dean’s relationship with Benny, but Sam thought that Derek kind of figured it out after Sam described their rapport. He didn’t blink an eye.

Sam realized that Derek had been just as guarded talking about himself as Sam himself was being now. They each clearly had seriously fucked up pasts.

It was kind of nice to not be the most bizarre person in the room for once.

It was four o’ clock by the time Derek and Sam had sorted their boxes and put the documents in the correct place in the filing cabinet Sam had started. Sam locked up and stood with Derek in the parking lot.  
“Thanks for your help, Derek,” Sam said. “I wish I could pay you for your work, but our budget’s pretty tight, if you hadn’t noticed from the antiquated…well, everything.”

“I don’t need the money,” Derek said quietly. “It was nice to get out of the house.”

Sam decided then that Derek wasn’t crazy. He was just really fucking lonely. 

“Well, you’re more than welcome to come back next Sunday, if you don’t have any plans,” Sam offered. It had been nice to have company for once, and Derek was a kindred spirit if there ever was one.

“I’ll check my incredibly busy schedule,” Derek replied. Derek smiled, really smiled, for the first time.

Sam chuckled. “You do that.”

Sam yawned and stretched, four hours of being cramped at the table not doing anything for his back and shoulders. He felt the chilly air hit his bare stomach where his shirt rode up. He then bent over and touched his toes, groaning appreciatively as his back un-kinked.

“Sorry, it’s hard being a tall guy sometimes,” Sam said wryly when he stood back up.

“No problem,” Derek replied, almost in a growl. When Sam looked up in question, he was hit with five thousand things at once.

Derek’s eyes were smoldering, and Sam had flashbacks- feverish kissing, brilliant, aggressive sex, waking up in the morning with a light heart for once.

He had seen those eyes before.

Madison.

Fuck.

It made sense, right? Sam had known something was off, and it explained why Derek could tell Sam was behind him in the grocery store- a werewolf’s nose was pretty legendary.

The metal of Sam’s knife burned into his side, but he put down the instinct. If Derek had wanted to kill him, he could have done it four hours ago.

“Well, thanks again, Derek. I’ll see you around?” Sam said quickly, his voice rising at the end.

“Yeah, tomorrow probably,” Derek replied, and he looked away. He almost looked sad. “Good night, Sam.”

Sam waited until Derek had been gone a sufficient amount of time before fumbling in his pocket for his phone.

“Garth? It’s Sam.”

“Sam Winchester! Long time no talk. What’s up, bro?”

“Look, Garth, I know we’ve officially retired from hunting, but something has…cropped up. I need your help,” Sam said.

“What can I do for ya? Got something to be ganked?”

“Not exactly,” Sam replied. “This is a long shot, but…do you know of any werewolves with the last name Hale?”

“Hale yeah I know the Hales,” Garth joked, and Sam vacillated between throwing his phone on the ground and pulling out his hair.

“Their pack is legendary, even here in Wisconsin. Don’t think any of ‘em are still alive though- some hunters burned their house down years ago, killed the whole family. Why do you ask?”

“Where were they living, Garth?” Sam asked, ignoring the question.

“Uh…California, I think.”

Sam sighed. “Do you remember any of their names?”

Garth hummed into the phone. “Nope- and the missus isn’t here so I can’t ask her either.”

“Alright, well, thanks for your he-”

“Wait!” Garth interrupted loudly, and Sam had told his phone away from his ear. “I vaguely remember one of them. A guy about our age…what was it? Eric…no…Darren? No, that’s not it either…”

“Derek?” Sam supplied, and his heart sank.

“Bingo! That’s it. Derek Hale, bona fide werewolf right there, born and raised,” Garth crowed.

Sam hung up a few minutes later and sat in the front seat of his car. He knocked his head against the steering wheel. 

It figured.


End file.
